What love is
by mercurial2010
Summary: Stendan - prompted by upcoming spoilers. What is love? Ste's heard it called a responsibility, he's played it like a loosing game, with Brendan he believes in fate, but is he ready for the darkness it brings?
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: My new fic based loosely on the spoilers for December onwards._

_Not sure if I'll keep it in this format but this seemed like a good way to set the scene and give me a forum for my Dublin scenarios ;) Happy to take feedback._

_This is just setting the scene, longer than intended and fluffier than my slippers, but I do promise angst and smut to come_

_Please let me know what you guys think :D_

**15/11/2012 – Dublin.**

"What are you doing here, Steven?" He asks his quiet voice almost accusing as he barely lifts his gaze from the frozen river beneath.

His question is the only sign that he has noticed my presence, in this place he shouldn't expect me. His words are the only thing to say he is even in this reality - the mist of rain that hangs between our bodies accentuates the lack of vitality in him. Brendan Brady, the man who's always been so strong, has been a fragment of himself for too long.

But I have no answer I can give him. Perhaps I should tell him that I missed him but I don't know if either of us are ready for that. I could tell him I know exactly what I'm doing, but there's a part of me that doesn't – a part that's immovable in shock and standing at my wedding twenty hours ago.

I have no answer, so I great him with sass, my defence after all.

"I only know one person in Dublin."

He hides his growing smile into his jacket, and the flicker of his gaze on me is momentary but sparkles.

I lean over the railings next to him, hoping he'll pay attention to my hands, my finger, ringless.

"Where's Douglass?"

"I don't know, it's seven so he's probably sitting down with Emmerdale right now… I didn't marry him Bren, I thought maybe you should know that."

This time, his eyes linger over me for longer.

"What happened?" He asks, he could sound angry, or bored, if you didn't know him like I do.

"There was a crash, at the wedding, a coach." I smile at the concern in his eyes, he'd spend forever and a day pretending not to care about our little village, but he'd be it's protector in a heartbeat.

"It's OK, everyone's OK, they weren't for a bit and it was… awful… But you know in the middle of it all there was only one person I couldn't stop thinking about, and it wasn't the man I was supposed to be marrying."

He smiles, making full eye contact this time, and I lose my breath as he comes back to me. I haven't missed him, I have been deprived of him, his absence has been an ache. And here now, standing next to him, breathing his air, sensing his scent, clinging to his warmth, here I am healing.

"I told you to stop watching those Pierce Brosnan movies, their gonna start messing with your head!"

We share a laugh that sounds like music, finding our harmony.

"Not him, is it! … Do you know what I'm saying?"

He steps closer to me, and that part of me that was lost in the wedding finds its way back. It's all of me that looks on at all of him. All of me absorbs the three little words that fall from his lips like a confession.

"I hope so."

**27/11/2012 - Chester**

"Steven," he moans, his voice wrapped in sleep.

I run my lips along his shoulder bone, and up, biting slightly against his stubbled chin.

"Steven," he repeats his voice now infinitely more awake.

I press a calf between his bare thighs and his body makes a small, involuntary, buck towards mine.

"Steven it's half eight, don't start something you don't have time to finish."

I huff a sulk against his chest. I feel his smirk against my forehead and in reprimand I bite against the sensitive nub of his nipple. I know the hand he slaps against my arse was supposed to be playful, but it bursts desire through me.

His brow raises at the moan that falls from my lips, his eyes staying closed in sleep.

"Maybe we don't have to go anywhere," I say, using my best flirtatious voice as I press my palms against his chest and grin at him. His blue eyes open slowly, making my heart flutter.

"We could phone everyone say we didn't make it back from Dublin, spend the day in bed."

"What would Douglass make of that?"

"I wasn't planning on telling him about the bed bit," I say and stick my tongue out at him. He sucks against it.

"You vanished on him for twelve days, saying it was going to be four, I think you need to open up the deli today don't you?"

I roll my eyes, why does he have to be right all the time.

"And I need to go stick my head in at the club anyway."

The comment is simple, sensible, not unexpected, but inexplicably my skin chills, and my mouth dries. Reality. Brendan and I never worked well in reality, and I don't know if I can trust that things are different this time. There's a way he smiles at me now and a way he laughs that I didn't see before, but inside I feel exactly the same. I was in love with him, before.

I feign nonchalance, nodding as I slip out of bed. But he has always seen straight through me. I sigh as his warmth presses behind me.

"Hey," he whispers, his thumb hooking my chin to turn my face to him. His gaze is deep, unrelenting as he captures mine. "I promised you, things aren't gonna change just cos we're back in Chester."

He tilts his head, asking me without words if I believe him. My sense and my love continue their never ending battle. But right now I know who I want to win the war. So I allow my mouth to answer his as we commit to a civilised meeting of the lips. A kiss that shares so much more than lust.

"I love you," I say as he pulls away. I am a fool to wait for his answer, when he has told me it won't come, but I always will.

Eventually I relent with a sigh, "so do you wanna text me when you finish work or-"

"Why would I need to do that?"

"Well I was just thinking you could tell me when you're free so I could come around, but yeah I guess it's first proper night back innit so you probably wan-"

Fear thrashes within me but he silences me with a finger pressed against my lip.

"Why would I need to text you if I can just come home to you, right?"

**22/11/2012 – Dublin**

Love.

He's used the four letter adjective about Dublin, his local, his whisky, almost continuously since I got here. I get that this is Brendan Brady and he doesn't share those things lightly, I signed up for that, but then he should ban the word from his entire vocabulary. I also know that it shouldn't be that important, that that little phrase shouldn't mean that much, especially given the deep and meaningfuls we've shared over the last week; or the times he's fucked me like our souls were reconnecting. He kisses me in public now, and holds my hand, mainly to cross the road so I feel like a little kid, but they're signs of… _something_.

I want the words though - and I want him to say it first. Now it means something, now it will be a promise, I want him to say it with feeling. I need him to tell me he loves me, which is the reason I'm slaving over this stove preparing him his favourite meal when he's disappeared to "work". This is Brendan Brady - the way to his heart might be through his stomach!

I turn back to the prepared chillies on the chopping board, I swear I sliced them two minutes ago, but they've vanished, and so have the other ingredients. So lost in my rant about him I'm going insane. I grab more, placing them on the board before turning to toss the onions in the pan. But when I turn back to the work surface they've gone and there's just a jar of jam.

Strawberry jam.

My lips quirk in realisation. I almost call to him, but if he wants to play I guess we have a forever now. I put the jam back in the cupboard, slicing the chilli. The next time I turn back, there are no chillies and there's a white stone sitting on the jam.

_He let my hand seek the warmth in his jean pocket as we walked along Killiney. My eyes trailed along the beach in front of us, and that's when I saw it, a pure white stone, with an arc at the top and a point at the base. A heart._

_"What?" He asked._

_"Nothing."_

_"No, come on, I know that smile, what is it?"_

_His hand lingered on mine before he let me go so I could walk the few yards to pick up the stone. I knew I had the most ridiculous smile on my face as I retrieved it. As he looked at it, his eyes grew darker – pensive. He turned it over in his hand and smoothed the middle with his thumb. It felt like such a significant gesture my heart swelled._

_"It's a stone Steven, there's a million other ones right beside you – why this one?"_

_Then he made me feel stupid._

_"Oh I guess it was just something in the way the light catched it I guess or-" I began our walk home, but he grabbed for my hand, his fingers interweaving mine._

_"Y'know years ago this was a jagged piece of rock, time and the waves and the other stones on this beach have smoothed it down, shaped it, so it ends up looking like a heart. Time has changed it from something hard to a symbol of beauty, unity and romance. Should be recognised that." He said, and I didn't miss the way he pocketed the "stone."_

_He might not have said it but within his gaze I felt cherished. What we have is more than words._

The stone glints on the jam jar now and I can't help but giggle.

"Stop it you idiot, I love you," too late I realise the words that have fallen from my lips and I feel my heart sink into the awkwardness that's rising.

I stare at the hob trying to busy myself with the frying pan, and only feel his presence coming closer to me.

"What did you say?" He asks.

"I called you an idiot."

"No Steven what did you say?"

I look up at him, he's wearing that suit, the one I remember most, and that white shirt with pink collor – the one I could never forget. I'm not the one who's frightened to admit where my heart lies. I square up to him, and my shoulders hunch defensively.

"I love ya, don' I?" I say, and physically count every second it takes for him to answer. An answer that doesn't come, except in a low sigh that escapes his lips and drags my head down.

Eventually, he takes a step closer to me, and my jaw tenses with nerves. With a thumb pressed against my chin he lifts my face to him. There are no words, he just kisses me, pressing me back against the worktop. His lips sink into my neck, right there; and his thigh seperates mine – presses up so my body can't help but respond to his.

"Brendan - the food," I barely muffle a pretence at resistance.

"Don't care," he breathes against my skin.

It is no sign to tell me he loves me but at least it's not rejection.

Our bodies move sinuously across the floor, this time he turns me around to take me deep, so I'm faced against the floor. I tell myself not to notice that it's the first time his eyes haven't connected with mine as he's fucked me. His body draped over mine, his persistent kiss against my shoulder, the continuous roll of my name with his tongue – these are the signs I need. Afterwards he pulls me to him, and buries his head in my hair. There are words he whispers that I barely catch in the haze, almost like,

"You're a fool Steven."

I don't push for them.

As time drags on my skin cools against his and he picks his shirt to cover us. I shift minutely.

"Are you OK?"

"Yeah, fine." I say though my jaw almost tenses over the lie, and I know there isn't a minute that he believes it.

"I got you something…" he says reaching for his trousers, "I was planning on waiting, till you at least had some clothes on, but now seems like as good a time as any."

What he retrieves are a set of keys.

"Oh yeah that's great thanks, will be helpful tomorrow if you've still gotta go to work – I may explore."

"I already had a spare key to the flat Steven, these aren't spare…" He lifts the keys in front of us and they dangle in the sun, hard edges shining.

"They're not?"

"I'm giving them to you. This one is for here," His whisper is slow as he indicates each key in turn. "And this one's for my place in Chester."

There's silence as my mind rushes to catch up with the enigma of him. I feel a smile pull the corner of my lips.

"I'm not saying you have to move in… if you don't want, I'm just saying… I'm serious."

His hand curves my chin, tilting my head to face him, as his gaze searches for mine.

"You know?" He asks, and I nod once because I sure as hell hope I do.

He presses his lips to mine, almost tentatively like he needs guidance and I shape our kiss as sweet and long.

"You OK?" He repeats as I pull away.

"Yeah, course," and this time I offer an excuse to explain the darkness in my eyes; "bit gutted about dinner but-"

His hand trails down my cheek and I forget my words.

"Are you sure that's it? I get the impression there was something else you wanted me to say?"

It unnerves me – how he always knows exactly what's in my heart. He releases my words quickly.

"It's just I told you, and I bloody came out here for you, and it's just a simple phrase and its not like you've never told me before. I mean I do get why you can't say it – I think but-"

His finger pressed against my lips silences me.

"Don't think I haven't said it because I haven't felt it, in this last week I've felt it more than ever, in this last year for you more than anyone I've ever known. Know that."

He pauses, and I feel the words shine over my skin, the glaze in his eyes the only reassurance I need.

"But that's why I haven't said it – to you from me it won't be just a simple phrase, this time it will be a promise of forever. I don't wanna say it like last time when I'm trying to tempt you into bed, or because you've just given me the most amazing orgasm. I don't wanna say it like others would and I'm sharing some cheesy moment with you abounding with cliches, if you want someone like that then you don't-"

It's my turn to silence his words, I chose a kiss.

"You are the only one I want."

"Good, don't think though that when I tell you I'll be telling you every day, you're an annoying twirp and there's some days you-"

"About to spoil it Bren-" I say, moving up from cold and uncomfortableness more than anything.

"OK. I will tell you Steven;" at the door he catches me, and as I turn to face him and we share a smile so sweet I don't tease him about his next sentence. "Even if you have to wait till our wedding day."

**27/11/2012 - Chester**

One glance in Brendan's mirror confirms the worst – I should have gone home last night. As it is I'm going to have to rock up at work wearing a T-shirt and jeans and not the uniform I insisted on. Or risk being an hour late, and causing more of Doug's tears. And I'm far too tired for any of it, I hate the first day back after holidays.

"Have I told you how much I like that shirt?" Irish tones carry from behind me and my gaze meets Brendan's in the mirror.

Lying in bed, he's propped up against the wall. His arms stretched over his head, biceps bulging. Duvet barely pulled over his expanse of masculinity – so I can barely remember to forget he's naked. I guess life's not too bad.

"Steven Hay I do believe your blushing!" He beams, and my eyes flick to my reflection in horror. Fuck – he's right as well. Compliments from Mr Brady are so rare that the presence of each sparkles like a firework.

"Am not. You need your eyes tested you."

"Oh come on don't deny me Steven, you know how sexy it is when you blush."

"Point proven," I roll my eyes – so there are occasions when his compliments are just clichéd.

Before I know it he's crawled towards me in the bed, hooked his hands around my waist and pulled me back so I'm flat out underneath him. I huff out a surprised laugh and he beams like a Cheshire cat. His body boxing around mine, above me he traps me.

"So what we doing this weekend?"

"I have the kids Friday and Saturday."

"I know."

"And Dec's arriving on Sunday."

"Saturday actually, he phoned last night."

"Oh that's great."

"Is it?"

"Means you get to spend more time with him, don' it?"

He nods, "Hmmm."

And then bites his lip that way he does when he's planning and formulating.

"Not quite what I was thinking though - It means there's an afternoon where all the kids are down together, thought maybe we should take 'em bowling or something…"

"Bowling?"

"Yeah, or I don't know we could do something else together."

"Together - like a family?"

He chuckles, that way that I hadn't heard until the second day in Dublin, the way that's becoming so familiar now. Happy, and proud.

"Yes, yes, like a family – if you like?"

I pretend to mull it over, although we both know how fast my heart is trembling.

"Hmmm, well family sounds alright I guess, don't it?"

He presses one hand either side of my head, so he's leant directly over me.

"It sounds more than alright Steven," he breathes before creating our kiss.

His mouth treasures mine, sweet and soft, his tongue gently licking at my lips. And when he pulls away he lets me chase his embrace.

He cups a hand around my face, tracing my chin with his thumb. I can feel the love in his eyes. But there's that doubt from before, and I remember his gaze as he drove away from me eighteen months ago. I wanted what he had offered so badly but it scared him and I lost him. What if doing this now pushes him too far?

"What's wrong?" He coaxes and I sigh, it was easier being with someone who couldn't read me.

I avoid his gaze, lacing his crucifix between my fingers.

"Nothing…"

"Come on."

"Just, do you think we're ready for this?"

His fingers weave mine, pressing tip to tip. He waits till my gaze meets his.

"I'm sorry we never made it to Disneyland, Steven. But yes, we're ready, I think we were ready back then, it's me that's taken time to get here."

"And now?" I ask seeking his truth.

When he smiles at me, I feel like I'm ethereal.

"Now… I want our family more than I think I could tell you."


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N:_

_Thank you for all the reviews and favourites and follows, they really mean a lot :D I seem to have been bitten by the writing bug so I really do plan to stick with this one and here's an early update to show dedication ;) If you enjoy please just review and I'm always keen for con/crit :D_

_Ahem, this is going to get darker now but for the guest reviewer who's birthdays upcoming – I'm sowweee, stick with me and I'll give you a present on your actual birthday ;)_

_So have I fooled you into a false sense of fluff? Good good, here comes the angst…_

**16/11/2012 - Dublin**

He lays above me, his warmth tingles over every inch of my skin. My entire body is sensitised to every inch of his, so every one of his breaths rivets through me. His moustache pricks his branding on my neck. My reality is only him. Neither of us have moved for hours, so we lie together, each one of his cells pressed tightly against each one of mine. His last climax was so hard I thought he might pass out and I have absorbed each shake of his muscles. His cock now lies satiated against my thigh, wet with our sweat and come, so I'm never fully undone, so I always know how perfect he is.

We've done nothing but screw since we got back here. Apart from the three hours of sleep we've had with his hand on my thigh – unable and unwilling to stop touching. Even the conversations been stilted, limited to the necessities and requests for refreshment. We've still not had that talk – I don't know what will happen in Chester, what may happen tomorrow. But his body has charmed and claimed mine and that voice of doubt is almost extinguished.

Last night was so mind blowing, unbelievably passionate. Each sensation is etched upon my mind for eternity, the rush of his carpet by the door, the chill of the window pain in his skyline view, the wobble of his hard oak kitchen table. I don't think I've come so many times in such a few hours.

Above me now, he shifts away from me, the bed dipping as he doesn't make it far. He trails a hand across my forehead, pushes my hair back, slopes over my cheek, his thumb dipping the slope under my bottom lip. Only his eyes trail lower but I feel their linger like a touch. I used to be so embarrassed about my spent body, I wouldn't stay in bed with anyone without a shirt or pair of boxers on – and this is Brendan Brady, how could my body possibly rank next to his? But now, after all the time we've been through, I can let his gaze undress all of me, I can let his eyes feast on my cock, and barely squirm under the intensity. Under his gaze I feel so confident.

"You are so fucking beautiful Steven Hay," He says, his voice is almost hoarse from the hours we've spent here. "Do you even know that?"

His eyes dip back up to my own, sparkling and clear and oh so deep.

"You make me feel beautiful," my words rush from my mouth before I can stop them, and their met by a quirk of his brow.

"Is that right?" He asks, his voice dipping once again.

A hand slips between my thighs pulls a gasp from my lips.

"And how else do I make you feel?"

The fire in my gut relights. There's so much lust in his eyes but there's something more pressing now, something that was only there at the edges before, but now shines across his irises. And I know, lying here with him, that it's been there in every one of his actions for months.

"Loved," I answer.

**28/11/2012 - Chester**

He doesn't make it home, not for hours, the dinner I make is ruined – it's becoming a pattern, and I doze on his sofa in front of awful television. The first time I realise he's back it's because the room shifts beneath me and I feel his arms around me as he carries me effortlessly to his bedroom. He places me gently on his bed and hovers over me. I push the grey suit jacket from his shoulders as his lips linger over mine. He tastes of whisky and smoke.

My opening eyes note the only light in the room is the moon sliding between his curtains. There's silence as we lay together, lip sliding against lip, tongue meeting tongue. His bed is filled with our scent. He's soft and gentle when he wakes me like this, takes his time, letting each cell buzz awake. This moment right now would be beautiful if it wasn't for the tension I can feel in his back and the tightness of his jaw.

With his shirt half open I slide my hands up and over his shoulders, tend to the tired muscles beneath. He sighs, his mouth dropping from mine, but places his hands on my own.

"Stop," is the first word he breathes and I realise his voice is hoarse, like he's been shouting, or crying. Or both.

I feel my smile turn into a frown. He barely looks at me as his fingers start to unbutton my trousers; and I realise that this tension in his jaw is familiar, although I haven't seen it for forever. There's a look in his eye I barely want to think about. He isn't the man who trapped me in his bed this morning, giggling and sharing words about family and futures. The Brendan lying above me now is so like the one I'd rather forget my muscles repel.

He wouldn't hurt me now, I know that, if I said no now he'd stop immediately. But his hands push insistently against my skin, and I know these caresses aren't from love. I have to know why he's like this, what's changed in the last few hours. But when I ask him he presses a finger against my lips, and I know an explanation will only fail.

"Please, Steven. I need this."

He waits for my answer.

I want to pull him through this, and I will use everything I have to fix him.

He flips me over, his hands hooking my knees to pull me up and my body is only his slave. He doesn't bother with my shirt, as it lays rucked up against my hips. He moans in gratification when he enters me. His thrusts are slow and gentle, he makes it last. He takes my climax first, holding me through each tremor, and his kiss is on my neck as he comes into me.

He helps me down into the bed, and runs a hand along my back. But then his body abandons mine and I feel colder than I have done in months.

"Thank you," he breathes deep.

I roll over to my side, touch his face and he closes his eyes as though my touch pains him. I slide my hand down to lay across his heart - it's familiar beat reminding me of the knowledge I have of him.

"Can we talk?"

He laces his fingers through my own, taking my touch away.

I gaze at our connection, our hands still slotting together like jigsaw pieces despite his heart feeling unreachable.

"There's nothing for you to worry about, I promise."

He places a kiss against my hand before leaving it cold between our bodies. He turns away from me, rolling his back towards me.

It's not enough to say that I feel alone. It's that sort of loneliness that's claustrophobic, that makes your heart hurt because you remember what it feels like to be united.

Sleep evades. So later when he turns toward me and studies me, I know he thinks I'm asleep, and I continue to fool him because that's the only way to hear the words in his heart.

His voice comes almost in prayer.

"You are not going to take him, you will not take my Steven away from me."

**16/11/2012 - Dublin**

"And how else do I make you feel?"

"Loved."

There's a pause as that word sits between us, a dagger or a bond it dances between us until it finds it's meaning. His breath comes quickly, his hand paused against my thigh as he deciphers it. One syllable has never felt like such an enigma.

"How do I do that?" He asks like he doesn't know, couldn't possibly make anyone feel like that.

"Oh I don't know – stepping in front of guns for me, buying a business for me…arranging my happiness at any cost. Kissing me like your world would end if you stopped."

"It does end, every time," he tells me and there's something in his eyes that promises he means it.

"Then stop it with… the stopping," I pause and roll my eyes at my words.

He laughs slightly, but then his every cell turns serious.

"I don't know Steven, could it ever be that easy between us?"

"It could, if we want it, if we work for it… I guess I need to ask if you think it's worth it."

"You know you don't ever need to ask me that."

His hand slides around to my hip as he pulls me close, emphasising the oath.

"I would if you stopped doing fucking stupid things!"

He laughs, "like what?"

"Like running away to Ireland, like letting me marry other people."

"OK, so we're agreed - if you ever try to marry anyone else again I get to hurt them to show you that it can work between us?"

"No!" I roll my eyes and we share a laugh that feels like love. "I guess that you need to do more sensible things though."

"Like what?"

"Like talking to me; and apologising if you piss me off,"

"Too easily done, pissing you off that is."

"And giving me a hug if I'm ill," I say ignoring his comment.

His eyes darken as he e says, "I'd rub vic on you."

I swear until this moment I never thought that medication could be sexy – he almost makes me want to be ill. I feel a blush prick my cheeks and cover it with my words.

"And a massage if I've had a proper hard day at work."

"These all sound like thing's I'd enjoy."

"Well it's not supposed to be tough y'know - being with someone."

"I get that I just wanna know why you didn't suggest it before?"

"I'm pretty sure I did!" I say, all those times that this didn't work coming back to me. "God Bren-"

"Sorry," he interrupts my words with such a sheepish expression on his face I can't help but forget why I was pissed in the first place – I never thought I'd see Brendan Brady looking sheepish!

"See you're learning already."

"I hope so," he says deep, his hand trails my face "there might be times I forget though, but I'll try if you think you can be patient with me"

"As long as you want me I'm not going anywhere."

"Forever then?"

**28/11/2012 - Chester**

This morning has been filled with Cheryl singing along to the radio, chatting randomly about blokes, and generally laughing. Her constant presence almost makes me forget about the feelings from last night, almost. But for the first time in weeks Brendan sleeps in, not even y kiss against his cheek rouses him.

The first laugh Cheryl pulls from my lips feels tense, but there's something about her humour that's addictive – she's almost excited.

"You're coming tonight, yeah?" She asks as I fill up my cereal bowl.

I shrug – her conversations have been flitting like butterflies. She could be talking about anything from a bonfire at the McQueens to a visit to Santa's grotto.

"Oh come on family dinner, and you're part of our family now - it'd be great, I'd love for you to meet Pa and just imagine how much Brendan would die!" She giggles.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews, they really mean a lot and keep my motivations flowing. This chapter continues the angst, which is exactly what we need after this week…ahem…sorry! (I will make them happy again soon I promise :)!)_

_I was planning on keeping the storyline (prior to crash week) strictly canon however I really needed them to have an almost-kiss scene and they…didn't *sniff* so I made it up HA! (with a little help from a Kylie song I'll personally always remember from early Stendan). I'm slotting these flashback bits in after their talk in the kitchen prior to Brendan going all religious – hopefully y'all think it works there :)_

_Hope you enjoy and please review :) con/crit or recomendations always welcome_

**28/11/2012 – Chester (two days after Dublin)**

"Why didn't you tell me your Dad was back?"

I wait until Cheryl is out of the house to ask him, and meet his expected eyebrow raise with my hands on my hips – he _is_ talking to me about this.

"And why do I get the impression you still haven't told Cheryl what he did to you?"

"There's no need for her to know Steven, just like you."

"This isn't one of those things that get better if you don't tell anyone Brendan, I should know, remember?"

"It's not the same for you," he dismisses me with a wipe of his hand that boils my blood.

"No? Did he ever look you in the eye and say that he wished you'd never been born? That you'd ruined his life."

His eyes drop to the floor with so much sadness that I immediately regret my words.

"No, no he never told me that," he mutters.

I step towards him, and it's only the tilt of his head that marks my presence. I take his hand and place it above my heart, letting him know how close I am and will always be. He meets my gaze and the watery smile he makes breaks me.

"Look, he beat you, it's unforgivable."

"He didn't just-"

"What?"

"Never mind."

I can see that he feels weak - he has no idea how strong he is.

"You don't have to believe you are the person he said you are - you're not. We are not what our parents make us," I repeat words he once gave me, but I can see in his eyes that his heart stays unreachable.

"Last night, was it about this?" I prompt, but meet nothing but silence. "I heard you, I heard what you said when you thought I was sleeping. You don't have to worry, I am in love with you and I am not going anywhere."

I press my hand to the back of his neck and seal my words with a kiss, but meet barely a movement from his lips.

"We can get through this together, Chez invited me to the dinner tonight…"

"She shouldn't have done that."

"Are you going?"

His eyes stay contactless, his body defensive, no words come, but I know his answer is yes, there would be no other explanation he could give to Cheryl.

Resolve fills every cell. If I'm not here for him now I will never forgive myself. After all he was there for me even when we were doing our best to belong to the façade of friends.

"I'll be by your side the entire time," I promise him.

"I don't want you there."

"Bren-"

"You're not to come."

"OK," I sigh.

I move alone to sit on his bed behind him.

"I'll go home, back to mine, after work. Come to me if you want anything yeah?"

He turns to face me, an unasked question on his lips.

"I mean it Brendan, I'll give you everything you need, don't go anywhere else. Come to me."

His eyes darken as he hears my words and each step he makes toward me is pained. He stands before me and bends so we're eye level. There's a heartbeat when he sighs, before he rests his forehead against mine and breathes deep. The exhale against my lips is the sign that he is here with me still.

"I would never go anywhere else," and I read the promises in his eyes.

He moves his head in synchrony with mine as our noses rub together.

But the lips he meets mine with are cold.

**1/11/2012 Chester (two weeks prior to Dublin.)**

"You're drinking like you're on a mission tonight Steven," his voice is hot in my ear as he leans over the bar next to me.

He picks up the whiskey bottle, inspecting it in the light.

"Good choice," he says darkly – does he know? Does he know I'm drinking it because it tastes of him?

"So come on, what is it? Pre-wedding nerves?"

"I'm marrying Doug, me."

What? I didn't even tell myself to say that! It's not even what I was thinking. I've got to the stage of drink where my mouths going to start saying things on it's own accord – not good. He smirks, like he can see the confusion in my face. Maybe it's not the effect of the alcohol.

"I know."

"You told me to, you."

"I did."

"Then why do you look at me like you want to kiss me?"

**30/11/2012 – Chester (four days after Dublin)**

He doesn't come, not that night and not the night after. He responds to my texts, instantaneously sometimes, so I know he's thinking of me as I am of him. But he doesn't even pop into the Deli. Not that I can blame him, given that my business partner and him are not exactly on speaking terms. But I miss him like a perpetual ache and that last kiss, foreheads press and cold lips, replays in my mind. I tried dismissing the thought that it was so like that first time he said goodbye – I tried.

"Ham, bacon and cheese Panini please," a male customer orders.

"Yeah sure," I nod, not lifting my eyes to meet the customer. Brendan Brady is infesting every waking thought again and not in a good way – again.

I hear a familiar giggle and my mind races to trace it.

"Bad day Ste?"

Cheryl.

I look up and she's stood there smiling away like her world's complete, I wonder how much Brendan has given so that she can live in that façade. An older bearded man has his hand on her shoulder like it belongs there.

"Thought it was time you met my Pa, seeing as Brendan won't do the honours. Seamus, Pa this is Ste."

**1/11/2012 - Chester**

There's silence, complete silence. I feel like somebody's stopped the rush of blood to my heart, and the pull of my lungs. He stares at me, jaw slack, like he's feeling the same. The question I asked dropped like an atomic bomb, a cacocophny of echos.

_"Then why do you look at me like you want to kiss me?"_

The moment when he's not the whole world is sudden. The sensation of other people hits physically, and I squint my eyes in the brightness of the club lights . A lot of people, dancing, pushing, shouting. And there's music. And I don't want all this, any of this, I just want us, I just want a world in which me and him are the only people that exist.

A few minutes later and I can recognise the thrum of the tune blasted from the stereo. The addictive beat sinks in through my skin. I know it - It's one that played on a loop when I worked here. One that sank through every one of our early moments, every time he kissed me, every time he fucked me, every time he punched me, left me, abandoned me.

"_I'm on fire, fire fire,_

_it hurts, when you get close baby it hurts."**_

Now, in this moment, his hand slaps me on the shoulder, in a friendly way, in a _friend_ way, it just feels so unnatural.

As he stands he places the bottle out of my reach.

"You've had enough tonight Steven," he says.

"What if there could never be enough?" I start to say, but he's already gone.

And I cling on to the music as I watch his every step away.

"_if love is really good you just want more,_

_Even if it throws you to the fire, fire, fire"_

**30/11/2012 – Chester**

Cheryl's outside on her mobile phone, she keeps smiling in though and it's obvious the phone call isn't urgent and she just wants me and this man to talk – so I can get to know Brendan's "father". There are very few people in the world who actually deserve that title.

Seamus has tried to make small talk, about the weather, my business, the things on the radio. His eyes stay glued to me and my skin is perpetually cold.

"OK enough of the crap, I'm really bad at meeting the in laws," he laughs, "Not been given much practice – I've only met two of Cheryl's boyfriends and well obviously you're the first _boyfriend_ of Brendan's I've met!"

I raise my eyebrow – if he actually thinks that's funny…

"Sorry bad joke, I have this wee habit of making bad jokes when I'm nervous and I can't help thinking we've already got off on the wrong foot… so I assume he told you, what our relationship was like in his childhood?"

"Bits," I say before my mouth engages my head – just make his bloody Panini and get him out of there.

"The bad bits right? Well I guess they were mostly bad, the… beatings?... there's no excusing them, I was a wrong'un. But I'm older and uglier now, fell in love and the love of a good woman changed me. And well you know all about that don't you? From what Cheryl says Brendan's been doing a lot of changing, himself…for you."

The smile he gives seems to radiate, and suddenly I'm filled with all the memories of Brendan, our history, all the good, all the changes and the constants – the way my heart has never failed to respond physically to him. The memory of my heart rushing in the early days, the way it jumped alive when he looked at me when I was with Doug, the way it flutters whenever he's near now.

"I know my son, and I know he's serious about you," his words pause and he smiles again, almost to himself this time, like he's genuinely pleased his son has found someone.

"Look you seem like a pretty switched on wee fella, and I hate to ask this but if you don't ask you don't get – I was hoping you could talk to him, get him to see that he could give me one more chance? I wouldn't ask for myself, but it's Cheryl, I know she hates seeing us like this."

"I don't know," I say.

But as I pass over his Panini and he takes my hand.

"Please?"

"I'll see what I can do," I mutter.

"Thank you, you're a good man Steven Hay."

I catch myself smiling at his words, his charisma, and that's when I realise we have an observer. Brendan is stood like he's frozen to the spot, staring at us from the other side of the deli glass. His eyes dark, his skin pale. Broken.

**lyrics "All the lovers" by Eliot and Stilwell – performed by Kylie Minogue.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Once again thank you so much for the reviews, they really make me smile. This chapter is still slightly angsty, but hopefully the fluff makes up a little for that! Brendan gets a little bit of what he needs, but obviously couldn't make him completely happy yet – that's end game :P

Really love reviews, con/crit, all off it. They're little flowers of motivation :D

**30/11/2012 – Chester (four days after Dublin)**

Brendan is stood like he's frozen to the spot, staring at us from the other side of the deli glass. His eyes dark, his skin pale. Broken, and my hands have helped shatter him.

Despite the avalanche of distance between us I can feel his wrecked sigh. With thoughts paused; I work on instinct – our proximity my only goal. I rush straight past Seamus, straight past Cheryl who almost drops her phone in confusion. I don't think about the deli – leaving it unmanned**. **All I can think is how I need to be with Brendan, pull him close and let him know that there is still nothing but us in our world. Let him know that I am here to catch every one of his tears; patch every heart break. All I can focus on is a need to remake the oath between our hearts.

He's already half way up the club steps as I catch up with him so I'm breathless.

"Brendan-"

He continues walking away from me.

"Brendan wait-"

I lodge my foot in the door before he can slam it shut.

"Brendan - Cheryl bought him in," I say as though that's an excuse.

"What the hell were you doing?"

"He was just talking to me."

"You were shaking his hand!"

"Brendan, please, look, listen…" but in my panic, my voice has run away with me and I have no words he should be listening to. "He just pretty much apologised to you," I offer as a vague excuse.

"Oh cos that's all it would take from your Mum, an apology?"

"Course not, that's not what I meant."

I close the door behind me, and it's like he almost doubles over, away from prying eyes he can show how much his soul is shattered. I place a hand over his shoulder and he looks deep in my eyes as he straightens, mends. He walks into me, places his hands on my hips and I feel a tension release from his shoulders like he's been suffocating without me.

"I'm sorry," he starts.

"No you don't have nothing to be sorry about, I'm sorry, it's just… he said he knows about me and he looked proper pleased for us."

Brendan takes a step back, his face crumpling in confusion. He walks to the bar, clinging onto a bottle of whisky with as much devotion as he was holding me a moment before.

"Did you hear me?" I ask.

"Yes."

"Well it's good innit? That he knows you're gay and he's OK with it, that he's happy for you. It's good. Y'know maybe him accepting that is a sign that-"

He turns to me and the look in his eye chills straight through me, it's not new but it's one I didn't think I'd see again.

"Are you fucking insane?!" He demands, slamming the bottle on the bar so hard it makes me jump. His anger thrums straight through me – why can't he see that all I'm trying to do is be with him? "He was laughing at us!"

It's that word, there's so many memories with that word.

"What? Why?Why would you even think-? Do you still believe there's something to be laughing at?"

**23/11/2012 - Dublin**

I don't think I'll ever get over the fit of Brendan's hand in mine, the cradle of his fingers around my own. Everything is perfect - the contrast between my small, slightly chubby fingers, and his longer thinner harrier ones. Before now, before we had Dublin, there are only two times he took my hand like all he wanted to do was know my touch. Both were about sex, each were as totally unexpected as the last. Now, it's like it was always meant to be like this, like the movement of his thumb in my palm, is customary, habitual.** H**e takes it in places like this - in massive busy shopping centres with hundreds of people around, like the rest of the world doesn't matter as long as he knows I'm happy. I am so proud of him and I am enchanted that it's me that he's chosen to share this part of himself with.

"Look – those two men are holding hands!" I hear the giggle of a little kid and I'm so ready for him to drop my hand so my smile is so bright when he just squeezes it tighter.

"Ready for this?" He asks.

I see in his smile what he means, and I return his gaze with a nod. My heart is doing a backflip but I'm as ready as I'll ever be. He gives my hand one last squeeze.

"Hey kids," Brendan turns around and bends down on the floor in one swift movement.

"Daddy!" Padraig says, running into his embrace like he's his hero.

You can tell time slows for them both when they stand there, father and son, wrapped in their own little world, too long apart.

Declan backs away, typical fourteen year old expression on his face.

"You are so embarrassing, Dad!" He says, and Brendan just ruffles his hair.

"My prerogative."

"Geerrrof!" Declan complains.

"Daddy, who's that man?" Padraig asks, pointing at me, hand on hip, this look on his face I've seen Brendan get sometimes when he thinks someone's eaten the last chocolate. "You were holding his hand!"

"That's right I was. This here is Steven, Ste. He's, well he's my-"

He physically struggles for the word like somebody's stolen his lexicon.

We agreed between ourselves, and with Eileen, that he wouldn't call me his special friend, it just sounds so patronising. I guess it would have been more helpful to actually come up with a term though.

I see Declan watch the exchange between Dad and brother with a humour in his eyes that makes me smile.

Brendan makes eye contact with me, begging me to help him out but what am I supposed to say?

"He's Dad's boyfriend," Declan says with this bored tone in his voice like what he's really saying is 'there are cool army robots, and beer fuelled cars now y'know – you have a boyfriend. Build a bridge and get over yourself already!'

The word pulls an instinctive laugh though, like I'm the teenager, and I kick myself until I realise that Brendan's had the exact same reaction. His eyes catch mine and there's even this feint blush in his cheeks that I've never ever seen before, it makes my heart flutter.

He smiles back and we have this moment where I swear the rest of the world disappears, because this is how we were always meant to be.

"Yeah, yeah he's my boyfriend," Brendan says not moving his eyes from me like he needs to absorb this moment and then I'm the one to blush, my head dipping as my smile grows.

"Is that OK?" Brendan turns to Padraig.

"Dunno," the ten year old says pensively. "Does that mean you like kiss him, like Mummy kisses Micheal?"

"Oh God," Declan and I say simultaneously and then he looks at me, and we laugh. And it's easy to forget in this moment that he's 14 because I've never felt so welcomed into a family by anyone else. Even the apologetic ex-wife with the awkwardness of countless cups of tea and homemade cake cannot beat the genuine warmth of a teenager.

"Cos that's just gross!" Padraig insists.

"Sometimes, though if you like we promise not to when you're around," Brendan answers. "Come and meet him, you'll like him."

Padraig almost shrinks back behind Brendan, his bottom lip pouted, scuffing the toe of his shoe. His eyes flash to mine and I try to smile but his gaze just reverts to the floor again.

"Come on Pad, I told you I met Ste when I went to see Dad, he's dead cool," Declan says and I feel a grin wipe my face at the description.

"Hi Ste."

"Hiya mate."

"Hello." The ten year old says like he's a judge accusing a mass murderer and Brendan turns to me to hide his small laugh.

"Hi Paddy."

"My names Padraig."

Brendan's eyes flash with laughter and I give him a look that I hope hurts.

"Right, sorry. You can call me Ste, or Steven, your Dad calls me Steven," my words rush away with me as I look down expectantly at the floor, hoping for that whole to open. "Ace trainers," I say shooting in the dark, but the words seem to work and he smiles excitedly.

"He just got them the other week, didn't you chap?" Brendan says, finally deciding to help me out.

Padraig just nods but lifts his eyes to mine.

"Tell Ste about 'em," Brendan prompts.

As he starts talking, Brendan looks at me and gives me this huge smile that does something to my heart I've never felt before, but want to feel every day from now on. Neither kid seems to notice when his hand slides back into mine.

**30/11/2012 – Chester**

_"Do you still believe there's something to be laughing at?"_

My question hangs in the air, stale and disused, and it pulls his saddened sigh.

"No," he shakes his head.

He looks at me, his beautiful blue eyes bright and wide, and I see how much he's here with me, how much he wants this. He walks towards me slowly.

"No, of course not."

When I'm in his air, when I can sense him here and I feel safe, a question comes. A question that frames the doubt in my heart.

"Then why haven't you come to see me?"

"Steven," his hands caress my cheeks, slide down my jaw. "Do you think it's been easy staying away? I have missed you so much."

"You seem to have managed it well enough, don't you?"

He closes his eyes and I lose him – his whole body backing away.

"I just;" "I can't let you, or the kids-;" "I wanted to keep;" "I didn't want you to;" He speaks like he's in some sort of trance, half bitten sentences like he's not really here. Backwards and forwards he walks, like he's arguing with himself.

His eyes open – bright blue.

The words he latches onto are not ones I was even contemplating.

"Let's go on holiday."

"What?"

"Tomorrow, text Amy tell her the kids need to stay a little longer, we're taking them away - early Christmas present. We'll pick up Dec from the airport on the way tomorrow – yeah, yeah that's good."

"Look, I'm proper confused Brendan I…"

"Don't be confused, don't." His voice is softer now, and his hands work back over me, up my arms, over my shoulders. He cradles my face between both of his hands. "All I want is the family we spoke about."

His body stretches mine against his club door, every inch of him connecting with me so I feel a part of him.

His lips hover over mine "all I want is you."

He presses his lips to the corner of my mouth, "come on holiday with me my Only, please?"

"Yeah," I answer, "yes." Before his lips take mine.

Sometimes he kisses me with the whole of him, like he's not aware of anything but the slip and slide of our mouths, and his hands rush over me like they need to know and explore every cell. This is one of those times. Silently, with just the power of his body he tells me he needs me.

His hands map over my arse and I jump up into him, wrapping my legs around his hips, embracing him with everything I have.

**23/11/12 - Dublin**

We've found a Ben and Jerry's shop and the boys disappear to fetch the icecreams - giving us our first moment alone.

"You alright?" he asks me.

"I'm proper nervous, me," I say.

"You're doing great," he smiles.

He hooks my chin with his finger to pull my small kiss.

"Don't worry about Paddy he's always weird around people when he first meets them, I think he… gets jealous," his eyes slide to the table, "you see he was so young when I…left."

"You didn't abandon them Brendan," I say.

His eyes meet mine and I repeat it because he knows I talk from experience.

I feel his hand squeeze mine under the table and he seems to get the reassurance he needs because he smiles.

"Good call on the trainers."

"Yeah well, I'm your dead cool boyfriend," I smile trying both labels on for size, "your son has a right way with words don' he?"

"Yeah," Brendan cracks a small smile.

Then he narrows the gap between us, so we share the same breath, making the world disappear around the corners again.

"He speaks the truth as well, you're my boyfriend." His eyes are all serious as he starts, but I see them spark in humour on that word. I guess it will always sound weird coming from his lips.

"Might even sound proper convincing too that - if you said it without laughing," I tease.

"You're my boyfriend," he repeats, this time avoiding the laugh but his eyes darken dramatically.

"Try a little less threatening!"

"You're my boyfriend," he says, louder this time not preventing the laugh from flowing freely, "and I have a lifetime to perfect saying that."

He reaches for my kiss but I tease him, confidence glowing from every cell.

"A lifetime eh? Really think you're that lucky?"

As I resist him he moves closer within our gaze, his mouth hovered just over mine.

"Nought to do with luck - I was Mother Teresa in a past life, Steven."

We hear a cough from the other side of the table, Declan with his eyebrow raised. The boys have got the ice-creams. I really did forget about the rest of the world.

Brendan jumps back from me, clearly in the same state and remembering his promise to his younger son. But before he leaves me completely he keeps my hand in his.

"Daddy I decided," Padraig announces as he climbs onto his chair, "it's OK for you to kiss Ste! Still not OK for Mummy to kiss Micheal though!"

"Why?" Brendan asks humorously.

"Duh – cos Ste likes polo bears on his ice-cream!"

"Pad how many more times – their called white chocolate Polar bears!" His older brother informs him, as Brendan smiles only at me. "You know cos they're shaped like that animal that lives in the North Pole! They're not made of Polos!"

A/N: True to my promise, the next bit will be posted on 27/11 for my lovely guest reviewer and everyone else with birthdays :) It's going to be one of two special little inserts – "later" style.


	5. Later part one

_**A/N**: So in true Later style you really don't need to read this in order to read the rest of the fic, and it is pretty graphic so I get that some of you may decide to pass. I hope those that read enjoy it though. But also in true Later style it is almost twice as long as the other chapters so it may need two sittings. There's a second part which I will add probably at the weekend._

_Also I apologise for the last bit of this – the thought just occurred to me and it seemed too good to pass up haha! (It's also the date I'm least happy about – we all know Ste didn't go out and get drunk with Rae after "gizz us a kiss", however for once there was not a day between their kisses.)_

_Thank you for all the support so far, hope you like this – let me know :D_

**30/11/2012 – Chez Chez the bar**

My legs stay wrapped around his hips, my arms around his shoulders, my body's instinct to keep him safe creating our lasting kiss. But quickly he controls me, and it's us and it's heat and I feel my mind slip away. His tongue runs along the inside of my lip, his teeth press into its base as with a simple kiss he possesses me.

He pulls back for the exploration of a gaze. His smile grows, slow and wide, highlighting the low glow in his eye. He presses his mouth against my cheek, slides down to my chin, the cave of my neck. He knows me so well - my body is his treasure map, his home. Every nerve ending has always trembled instantaneously with his pleasure, but it's more now, more than just physical heat it's like an eternal fire that will never diminish.

He makes no move to remove any item of clothing, but I still feel him in every cell. Pinpricks of pleasure map the trail of his teeth and moustache. He bites a sweet spot and as I moan I feel him beam against me, his body quickly incadescent.

He pulls away, rests his forehead against mine as he rocks into me. Small barely visual movements are all that exist between us for heart pounding moments - Burning friction licking fire within me. His eyes are deep as they read mine. I sense him within me and me within him, and we are all we need in this world. We share breath, we share heat, we share love. I can see in his soul that he is more here in this moment than he has been for days and that we are only.

Breathy words drift over me from his lips

"Ar scáth a chéile a mhaireann na daoine."

They're words I heard him speak before; and my lips part as I translate his heart.

He presses a kiss to my lips.

"Under the-" he starts to translate.

"Under the shelter of each other people survive," I say and his eyes sparkle as he knows I understand.

"That's you Steven," he says looking at me like he wouldn't know how to live without me.

"No, that's us," I whisper, telling him I would be nothing without him.

I press my lips to his once softly.

His gaze doesn't relent, bright blue eyes that feel like they last forever. I blink, ordering my head to logic but even with my eyes closed all I can see is the intensity of his eyes, like I've been staring into a light for too long. The quick flick of his tongue against my lips reverberates through me and he swallows the gasp in a wide momentary kiss.

"Brendan," I sigh.

His eyes darken with the sound of my voice and he grins like he knows exactly how much he owns me.

"Yes my Only?"

"Take me to the office," I whisper and watch images of us flash in his eyes, memories of fire. "Fuck me here."

**20/10/2010 – Chez Chez the cellar**

"Alright?" He asks his lips hovering over mine, wet and parted and so fucking tempting.

I feel breathless, like my lungs have forgotten what breath is, my heart's beating a rapid tattoo in my chest and has been since he walked toward me, with that red shirt on, that look on his face like he is my fucking predator. My fingers tremble at my sides, trying to reach that crate he took from me but all I find is him. I am so far from alright it'd taken a plane ride, a bus and a sprint to get back.

"Yep," I nod.

"Yeah. Scared?"

"Nope."

I'm fucking petrified, tonight is only going to go in one direction, and it's like I'm fucking 13 again - well I guess he's about to take my virginity. I'm about to be fucked by a bloke, and not just any bloke, Brendan Brady. And the scariest thing of all is I think I might like it.

"On your knees then."

**30/11/2012 – Chez Chez the office couch**

My knees press into the leather couch either side of him, trapping his warmth against me. My fingers tangle in his hair as his mouth works over mine, claiming each moan. I spread my fingers down his neck, tracing the warmth underneath his shirt.

I feel his desire grow against me, heavy now, hard and hot and pressing into me. I move against him, stoking passion with passion, taking his breath for my own as his kiss fails. My fingers explore his face's cadences, and I run my tongue against the scar by his eye, wanting my touch to be his medicine. I trail my mouth against his cheek, tease the lobe of his ear and suck at his pulse.

A sound like a whimper melts from him and it's then I realise that he has stopped moving, that he's almost solid-tense beneath me.

"Are you OK?"

There's a pause, a blink of his eye, before he makes a two word response.

"You're here."

And I can see in his smile that he's trying to mean it, that he wants to believe I'm the only thing he needs. So I don't tell him that when I asked that question I saw him battle with monsters. I don't tell him it just takes one look in his eyes to know his heart is no longer wide open.

I allow the kiss and try and forget about the barrier that pulled up inside of the man I love.

I feel him liquesce into the kiss, his movements becoming liquid as our heat surrounds us, and he rests his forehead against mine.

"As long as I'm with you, I'm fine," he whispers. His deeper honesty pulls my smile.

"Good." And then I offer him the one thing I know will always bring him back home to me, "so let's make this last."

**23/10/2010 – Chez Chez the office desk**

His muscles pin me against the desk, his whole weight trapped over me. I feel so weak next to him; he could break me in an instant. But his movements are soft, almost gentle as he pushes into me, away from me and into me.

The amount of times I thought about sex with a guy, I never thought it could be this intense, his strokes feel like he's rocking me from the inside. I smile as I realise his fucks are almost comforting. There's a pool of bliss on the other end of this. A pool I've been in twice before. A place I never thought I'd get to. This is the third time, and I can't imagine ever wanting to leave.

His movements start to shudder and I take a hand down to my desperate cock wanting to pull us over at the same time. But before I can get an ounce of satisfaction his hand is trapping mine again, stretching up and hooking my fingers over the desk.

"No hands," he commands, "I'm going to fuck you till you come just from me being inside you."

There's a little doubt over whether that would be possible, until he bursts my vision and yanks a whimper from my lips – those sensations are his cock brushing against my prostate, he told me. He presses an arrogant smile to my back. Still though, I'm not sure how long his promise will last, I felt how weak he was before. So I drive my hips quickly back into his and he curses. His hands swinging quickly to my hips, holding me still as I feel him practically tremble so close to the brink.

"Please," he asks. It's the first time he's said that word like this and for some reason it feels right, like a piece is fitting, like it's something I was always intended to hear. "Please Steven."

**30/11/2012 - Chez Chez the office couch**

I let my kahki-clad hips dance for him, over him, brushing once, twice, pulling away against his chest so he can feel how much desire floods my body. Knowing the pattern that will drive him crazy. I repeat the steps, releasing this long drawn out moan from his lips that sounds like it's been years in the making. The next time I move he pulls my arse closer to him, disallowing my body's departure, holding me in place as his hips arch forward into mine. There is no distance between us as he rocks us in harmony.

When he knows I will keep the pace his fingers trail under my deli shirt, pulling the hem from beneath my belt. I see a thought flash in his eyes and he grins at me, his eyes sharpening like sapphires.

"I always wanted to do this," he whispers.

He places his tongue just under my chin, tracing down over my adams apple with the same slow rhythm as the movement of our hips, his body turning mine to a symphony.

I tilt my head back with a moan, allowing him greater access. But I lose his mouth and instead feel my shirt pull up. As I look down he's grinning at me, his teeth hooked over one small white plastic button as his tongue presses away the fabric. Expertly he unbuttons my deli shirt with his teeth and lust ties an eternity-bound knot.

"Sometimes I'd watch you in the deli and just think about doing this -" he says before releasing the second button.

"-Just dream about what it would be like to press you against one of those metal kitchen tables and unhook your shirt with my teeth, undress you like this-" The third button lies released.

"-The way your eyes would shine, just as their doing now -" He smiles, as he drops the fourth, his hands sliding under my arse to lift me up - allowing him to continue the treatment on the whole shirt.

His hands lie at his hips as his mouth catches the fifth.

"-The way I could make you pant without even touching you." He breathes, raising his eyebrow.

To tease he leaves the sixth and last button done up, my shirt pulled together just at the last moment, before pressing his face into my torso, his nose rubbing against my skin.

"Never forget Steven Hay, I know all of you," he breathes before bending toward me, taking an inch of flesh between his teeth and sucking hard.

**25/10/2010 Chez Chez the office couch**

"Fuck," I curse as his suck gets harder. I'm writhing, trapped between him and this leather couch. I'm so fucking close and he's not even taken my trousers off yet. I would be embarrassed, if it wasn't for the rather impressive weight I can feel pressing from his own trousers.

His lips curl into a smirk as I feel my blood heat between his teeth, the inch of skin stinging from his onslaught. He sucks and sucks, sucks and sucks, and the room tips.

"Brendan, what are you doing?"

He doesn't stop until we hear that pop, sounding loud amongst the tense silence in this room. A flicker of his tongue whispers over my stinging flesh.

"Marking you," he whispers, "No one's going to know that's there but me Steven," He insists.

**30/11/2012 – Chez Chez the office couch**

The first leaves me panting, the second spins my mind and the third makes my cock weep. I swear I could come just from his love bites. His mouth is so fucking licentious. But I need him to melt into this moment, I need him to loosen those binds around his heart, the way he did in Dublin, for me. And I know the way to tempt him into giving himself entirely.

I pull away from him, pressing a kiss against his forehead as I slide down his legs onto the wooden floor. I hook his hips with my palms and he laughs as I pull him toward me, so he's sat on the edge of the sofa. I give him that look I know drives him crazy, smiling up at him from underneath my eyelashes. Slowly I undress him, unwrapping his perfect body for me. After sliding off each shoe and each sock, I run my hands up the inside of his legs, over the denim, watching the breath that fails his lips as he gets in position for me. I relish the swish of leather on leather as I undo his belt and pop the button to his jeans. I know the feel of him so well; I know the weight, the width, the girth. I know the way he feels inside me, around me, against me. I know his scent and his taste. I know all this because he is mine. I know all the ways to blow his mind because he's shown me, he's let himself be at his weakest with me, shown me the beautiful underneath his façade, he's trusted me to slot all the pieces back together when his mind is blown. He is mine, and everything I am is forever his.

"Tell me," I whisper.

He arches his hips as I slide down his jeans and boxers.

"Tell me," I say again, cupping him lightly with my hand, my thumb skittering over the bulging vein on the underside of his cock.

"Tell me."

"Hmmfk, what? Tell you what?"

I ask it because I know the one thing that will blow his mind.

"Tell me what you want me to do," I ask. His eyes pop, and the slow scorching smile he gives me burns my fucking mind - exactly what I was aiming for.

**27/10/2010 – Chez Chez under the office desk**

This is fucking incredible. I never actually thought it would be hot doing this. But fuck me. His cock is so unbelievably sexy. I'm definitely fucking gay, well at least bi.

His body is amazing, every inch is just pure sex. Right now his suit trousers are down to his knees, only the bottom few buttons on his white shirt are undone and there's just a hands palm of his naked skin I can see but he looks incredible. The white shirt is pulled tight so I can make out each muscle, and remember them pressed against me. And the I cant take my eyes away from his cock as it slides in and out of my lips, shining and wet and fuck.

He tastes good too, like not great. Not like chocolate and strawberries, but good. His seed sparks on my tongue and I just want more, I want to taste him all.

The office door is open, he really shouldn't be moaning like he is, his little keens littering the office, but every time I swipe my tongue like that it's like he can't help it. His fingernails are tightened into the armrests of his chair, his knuckles white and fingers shaking. I have so much fucking power right now. He looks proper strung out, his lips wet, his eyes glazed over like opal and I'm doing this to him. I'm bringing the big Brendan Brady back to basics.

I have just enough strength to slide my tongue out and map down more of his length. I use my hand to touch the rest of him. He's so fucking big, there is no way I could get him all in my mouth.

There's a long moan now and his eyes flash down to meet me, beneath the table. There's an expression on his face that I've never seen before, and his jaw trembles slack. His tongue swipes at the corner of his lips just under his moustache like he's not even aware of the action.

"Fuck Steven yawn," he instructs.

My eyebrows knot together – he wants me to what?

"Just fucking yawn."

As I do his hips slide further forward, and I feel him get deeper, press against the back of my throat. I gasp, just maintaining my control of my gag reflexes. My lips press against his balls. I'm deep throating him. Christ.

"OK?" He asks, and his voice is so fucking tight I half contemplate grabbing my phone to record him.

There's concern in his eyes and I moan to tell him that this is blowing my fucking mind. This is one image that will definitely be working later. I shove my hand over my erection and there's a low chuckle deep in his throat.

He watches me, swallowing him and running my hand over myself simultaneously. His eyes sparkle so clearly, like I've never seen them before. Their so deep right now, it feels like his gaze lasts forever.

His hands stroke through my hair, pulls gently.

"God you look amazing," he says, his voice softer than I've ever heard it.

Then his eyes slam shut and he raises his head to the ceiling. When he greats my gaze again there are walls back in place, his eyes are darker.

"Good boy," he whispers.

**30/11/2012 – Chez Chez the office floor**

He ordered me to tease him. He commanded me to kiss him, lick him and flick him, and he told me that even when he begged me to stop he wanted me to continue. He wanted to break for me; he wanted to feel desperate and yearning and to think that the deep suck was never going to come. So I give him it all, explore all of him from the dark thick hair at the top of his groin, to where his taste gets darker. I roll a tightened ball between my fingers and run a thumb along his perineum. I flatten my tongue against the head of his leaking cock and pull his cheek between my teeth. And all the time he's moaning my name, again and again, like it's a benediction, his eyes focused on me like I'm the only thing he can see, his fingers gripping crescent shapes of pain into my shoulder blades. His body arching toward mine with a magnetic force.

He's here with me.

He tries hard, he really tries hard to keep his eyes open, but I see them roll into the back of his head. His head tilts back as he grows desperate for the oxygen I rob him of. The growl between his teeth spurs me on, and quickly I open my mouth wide, taking his entire length in in one swift movement, in the way he taught me. I love the curses that fall from his mouth, almost as much as the feel of him stretching me and those sparks on my taste buds. But before I can explore him, he's pushed me back, his cock releasing from my lips with a pop, my back flat against the floor as he arches over me.

His hands pin my shoulders to the ground beneath him. I can't help the moan of disappointment that flees my lips at the lack of him and he laughs.

"You have no idea how incredible you look doing that Steven," He says, his hands working quickly to rid us of any lasting insults of clothing with trembling hands. "Thought you said you wanted this to last? It would have been a fucking impossibility!"

As he lies over me, I arch into him, needing the feel of his cock against mine. He takes my kiss and his tongue slips over mine, across my bottom lip. He moans as he explores me fully.

"Love the way I taste inside you," he whispers, his eyes dark sapphires.

His hands cup behind my knees, pushing my legs up. I lose my breath the moment his lips press against my chest. He smiles at me, this triumphant look on his face because he knows he has the gen to have me coming right now should he choose to.

I arch into his touch as his moustache scratches my nipple. My cock starts to leak as soon as his tongue runs into my navel. So by the time his mouth reaches its destination I'm spun out on him. He cocks my legs back, feet above my head as he smiles at me. My head collapses down into the floor as his tongue pushes straight through me, not wasting any time. His hands run across my body, exploring my muscles, occasionally brushing against my cock, so I can't feel any part of my body that he's not reconnoitring. Without his touch I am nowhere.

His tongue explores me deep and I feel his lips move against my arse, a huff of air shaking from him with a familiar strength. As I start to decode it he does it again.

"You so better not be laughing right now Brendan fucking Brady!" I insist and he moans to tell me he's not but I'm not blind to the note of humour in it. "I swear I'll withhold sex for like a fortnight!"

That punishment causes him to chortle louder, pulling away from me.

"You wouldn't last a week!" He says, wrapping his hand around my cock for evidence. I buck into him, but that's not fair, I am so not the one who's more desperate for sex!

"Do you wanna test that theory?"

"Fuck no! Anyway I'm not, honestly," he promises me, his hand running soothingly hip to hip. "It' s just - god you are so fucking loud!" He laughs again, shaking his head as his hand rasps against my arse. "I actually thought you might burst an ear drum."

I roll my eyes to tell him that that is seriously unfunny and cross my arms over my chest.

"You love it."

"I do," he whispers, bending his body over mine, grabbing my wrists to stretch my arms up above my head. Against me, his eyes darken before he whispers, "You make me feel so fucking powerful."

And then he kisses me like he is the only person who was ever supposed to. The only one who knows how to control every inch of my mind. His kiss is tailor made perfection to rob me of anything but the feeling of him. My calves slide further down his back, my foot pressing against the smooth dip as the room starts to diminish around him.

He sighs, "you've gotta go to the shop."

"What?"

"There's nothing here, and it's your turn remember," he says, resting his head against my chest as he smiles at me, wickedly. I knew that making him leave our bed to grab refreshments of condoms and lubes would come back on me eventually.

"You could have told me earlier!"

His laugh is teasing.

"Yeah but where's the fun in that?" He asks raising his eyebrow.

**12/1/2012 – Chez Chez the toilets.**

His eye catches mine across the room and it's like he's looking inside me. We're in the toilets in the club on a busy Friday night, he's at work and I've had far too many beers, but we could be anywhere doing anything. Sometimes when he looks at me it's like we enter this other dimension and nothing exists apart from heat and fire.

"Crazy out there tonight isn't it?" A different voice breaks through my revere and I blink twice to clear Brendan fucking Brady out of my head.

I really don't get the guys who insist on talking in the toilets, just finish up and get out of there.

I swap a polite smile with the bloke next to me anyway. I've seen him around, American, used to do some work for Brendan. His names like Dan or Ross or something.

"Y'know it may be cold outside but the heats definitely on in there, some of those skirts-" he makes this little clicking noise in the back of his throat.

"Yeah there's some great looking birds." I agree trying to remember even one girl I've seen tonight. Apart from Rae of course, she's looking so hot tonight – wish my brain would tell my body that!

Purely on accident my eye catches Brendan's again and he's looking at me like he wouldn't mind fucking me into this wall and Oh God my mind is shattering. The power of him makes the room tip and shake – or that might be the alcohol.

"That's the smile of a guy who knows he's getting lucky! Pulled already?" The American asks and Brendan's smirk fires through me.

"I'm here with my girlfriend, me. Mate."

"Oh yeah that's right you're with that blonde chick aren't you, Rae is it?"

I smile in answer. Seriously, some guys really do not get bathroom rules – I did not come in here for a chat.

Actually why did I come in here? Oh yeah I was following Brendan.

There are seriously not enough empty rooms in Chester.

I hear the Irishman cough behind us, "Douggie boy, be a good lad and finish up – Steven and I have some _business_ we need to attend to."

I almost blush, my mind rushing as his not very carefully selected words must feel obvious to the world. But the American's actually hurrying, washing his hands apologetically. And then I realise – he thinks he's talking about drugs!

Well I guess sex with Brendan is an addiction.

The door opens and the already forgotten man disappears. As it shuts all the air sucks out of the room and my drunken mind begins to wonder if it's possible to breathe without oxygen. Brendan walks slowly toward me, His eyes dark and lips parted.

Oh God.

I really shouldn't still want him as much as I do, but fuck one kiss could almost be enough. Especially one of his kisses, all tongue and teeth and mess – fuck.

"Yeah there's some great looking birds in here tonight, innit?" He copies my voice, humour in his tone.

"Haven't noticed a single one, me, not really," what is my voice saying? "I mean not just cos Rae's been here." Seriously Ste, shut the fuck up.

He laughs. One of those laughs that starts drifting slowly and quietly from his lips, getting louder, tying knots of lust in my gut. I'm rock hard already and he's just looking at me.

"Do you think I'm jealous Steven? Really?" He says, tilting his head to one side, ducking closer to me, I melt in his scent. "Are you forgetting I know you? I bet you're hard already, just by me being this close to you."

My heart's pumping his rhythm – he knows.

It's the alcohol.

It's really the alcohol making the room tip right now.

Somewhere I hear the music the DJ chooses. Kylie starts to sing that fucking song about fire or something.

"Shall I find out?" He asks, low.

He places his hand on my stomach, his fingers drifting across the waistband of my jeans. Yeah it's definitely the alcohol. His hand pulls my fly. My head pushes back into the cold wall behind me, my eyelids fluttering.

"Don't you dare close your eyes!" He orders each word a bullet of lust.

His lips force mine, greedily. It's one of those snogs, tongues battling, mouths wide, so fucking wide, almost searing. It's like he could consume me with one breath. And all the fucking time his eyes are open, staring right into mine, so I can see his pupils dilate and world open.

His hands in my jeans, through the zip, not bothering with pulling them down, his fingers just working over my dick, hard and leaking for him. His fingers pushing back my boxers as he touches me.

There's something about the place we're in, that little twist of danger that just makes me so high. Knowing that anybody could come in here in any second and see us like this, and it's like he doesn't even fucking care.

The kiss continues and all I can sense is him, his thick heavy tongue against mine, his teeth rasping my lip, his hands running over my body, and over again. That taste of whiskey and mint, the smell of his aftershave. I don't fucking care where we are - all I can hear, and feel and taste in this moment is him.

My hand reaches for him, wanting to know he's as into this as I am. And Jesus he's fucking huge, so hot and heavy against his suit trousers. God what I wouldn't give to have him inside me, maybe not here though, not like this. I stroke him in synchrony, but he grabs my wrist, pushing my hand flat against the wall behind me. His bigger, stronger hand flat on top of mine.

The kiss continues, spit and heat and battles.

His hand doesn't pause, stroking me - root to tip and root to tip.

He swallows my moan and I'm so fucking close. My lips pause in the kiss as I feel the first tidal wave start within my extremities, but he continues to kiss me, controlling me with his mouth as with his hands.

And I'm fucking whimpering now. I'm a bloody great mess. And he's smiling like he's fucking enjoying this - like I'm the best present he's ever owned.

His hand pauses, gripping tightly, and that's what it takes. I feel every muscle give in as I come, shooting all over his hand, my mind fracturing bit by bit. He lets the kiss go and I press my mouth into his shoulder, biting him through the dress shirt as my gut dips and world dissolves. Just when I think my orgasms complete he starts stroking me, just slightly and my hips judder forward, pushing more for him.

"Fuck yes, Steven."

He holds me against the wall through each after tremor.

His hands run up and down my back as he pulls my mind back together again.

I take a breath and all I can sense is us. God that was far too fucking short - I've barely even touched him. I hear the closing bars of "All the lovers," and realise the whole things only lasted one song. I feel like a stupid teenager – I couldn't be more embarrassed if someone walked in here now.

"OK?" He asks, as he begins to ply me away from him.

He beams as he sees my blissed out smile.

"God I'm good," he winks. "See you here tomorrow, you're shift starts at eight, but I think we both know you'll be here earlier."

"I could come to the office now," I say, my voice sounds rather more pleading than I'd like.

"Got a lovely lady waiting out there for you Steven, can't abandon her."

He tucks me back in, pulling my flies up.

"Fuck Rae! What about you?"

He smiles slightly, likes he's laughing at some private joke. Presses his lips to mine, softly, sweetly, his nose pushing up against mine, like I'm a kid.

"This was for you Steven."

_A/N: Actually Brendan you're wrong – this was for all my lovely reviewers especially my wonderful guest – HAPPY BIRTHDAY!_


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